APPENDIX
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APPENDIX
A
For several weeks the weather was so rough that we had a dreadful time, all suffering from sea-sickness excepting my mother, who was a good sailor. She, therefore, had to wait upon all of us, as there were no stewardesses on board, and only two stewards for the whole of the 1st class saloon passengers. We used to hear mother vainly trying to get from her cabin to ours, and when at last she did succeed in reaching our door and opened it a little, it shut itself with a bang in her face and she was hurled in the opposite direction against the saloon wall, the rolling of the vessel was so great and continuous.
B
The Rutland Hotel was then a plain, two-storied wooden building with balcony (where the up-to-date Rutland Hotel stands now), surrounded by loose, black sand. I soon found myself an object of curiosity to the people, as I was the first person to wear a crinoline (or hoops, as they were sometimes called) in Wanganui.
We used to think it quite a walk into the country, when we reached the place where the famous Wanganui College stood for so many years. In those days it was a small building attended by a very few Maori boys, and beyond the school stretched only sand-hills and swamp, instead of the pretty houses and gardens and trees which make it really an avenue.
C
Our Resident Magistrate, Major Durie, and his wife were most kind, hospitable people, and many pleasant
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evenings were spent in their nice house the other side of the Wanganui River, which we had to cross in small boats, in our gay evening attire, as there was no bridge in those days.
The military people introduced a great deal of gaiety into the town, and we all revelled in the fine music of the military bands. There was one tune they always played on Sundays when marching to church, which I can play by ear, and often old officers exclaim when they hear it, 'I wonder how many times I have marched to church to that tune!' The last officer I played it to was Captain Baillie, who, after retiring from the army, settled in New Zealand, and was for years Speaker of our Legislative Assembly. His wife is a cousin of the renowned Lord Roberts, Field Marshal, and they are a much venerated couple, still living in Wellington. It is a familiar and pathetic sight to see the dear little old lady leading by the hand her tall, handsome husband, who is now quite blind.
D
Although our distance from town was about twelve miles, many of the military and civilians called upon us, and the return visit followed in due course. One home we especially loved to visit was at Putiki, across the Wanganui River, where the Rev. Richard Taylor lived; an ideal home, full of the courtesy and genial kindness that belongs to the Christian gentleman. The garden was lovely with rare flowers, native trees and shrubs; the wide verandah, shaded by sweet-scented, creeping plants, and to all this beauty was added the charm of his three daughters. The only surviving member of the family is the daughter who was married to Captain Spencer Medley, R. N., only son of Bishop Medley, Metropolitan Bishop of Canada; she lives with her daughter in Wellington, to the great pleasure of her many friends. The widow of the Rev. Basil Taylor is still living, and faithful to his memory has carried on a work of ministry that has been a blessing to many, and for years evangelists and missionaries from all parts of the world found a home and welcome in her house at Wanganui.
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E
We had to be our own butchers also, and sometimes when visitors unexpectedly arrived we had no meat, waiting for Jem to kill another sheep. This was the case when our old friend Dr. Allison arrived one evening, and I had to apologize for only having fried liver for tea from a sheep just killed. But the kind old doctor said he preferred it to any other part of the sheep, so with pudding, hot scones, and butter, we had enough to satisfy our hunger. Although Jem hated killing sheep, he was rather proud of the way he divided the carcase as it hung up on the branch of a tree, for by one stroke of his sword the hind quarters fell away from the fore quarters. Occasionally a few Maoris passing at the time would be interested onlookers; but sometimes Jem missed the exact spot which made it possible to accomplish the desired result.
F
We had a neighbour, a Mr. John Bryce, who thought much of my husband's abilities, and they often met at each other's houses for conversation, chiefly political. I remember saying to Jem after one of these visits, 'Don't you think you and your friend might take the mud off your boots and leggings before you sit down to converse?' for great cakes of mud on the floor and dirty marks on the chairs were not to my taste; but Jem reprovingly answered, 'That man will make his mark, not only on your furniture, but in New Zealand.' And the prediction was fulfilled, for he became a leading man in our legislation, and, best of all, was known as 'Honest John Bryce.'
Some friends of ours had brought out to New Zealand their very handsome silver and beautiful old china, but no furniture, not realizing how difficult furniture was to obtain here, nor how expensive. When, therefore, parties of military and civilians rode out to see them, the display of china and silver was splendid, but the guests had to sit on candle-boxes and the tables were large boxes turned upside down!
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G
The Maoris, although fierce warriors, are, when peaceable, possessed of many lovable qualities, and, but for the interference of unprincipled Europeans, the missionaries would have made a splendid race of them. Mr. Woon, one of our earliest missionaries, was much esteemed for his work amongst them. Those Maoris who were influenced by the early missionaries were the most courteous, regal-looking men, and now even in these days many fine characters are found among them who work hard for the uplifting of their race, and fight valiantly against the evils of drunkenness and immorality which threaten their destruction.
Mr. Ngata, who took his M.A. degree with highest honours, and also his LL.B., is a great power among his people for good; also Te Heu Heu, the Taupo Chief, and the young Maori party at Te Aute are many of them refined gentlemen; foremost amongst these is the Rev. F. Bennet (half caste), a very earnest reformer and fine orator.
J
This revolver was sent at my request to Major Turner of the 65th Regiment, as my husband thought so highly of him as a good and brave officer.
K
A friend of mine living near Napier told me that, having heard there were Hau Hau's threatening the lives of the country settlers, she and her sisters, together with the male portion of the family, practised the use of firearms. Her brother, who was out shepherding, discovered that some of his sheep had been killed by these Maoris, and on meeting some of them he spoke to them about it, but they refused to answer, and kept him prisoner whilst they had a 'Korero' as to whether they should kill him or no. Finally they decided that as he was the son of Partine (Parson), there would be a commotion about his death before they were ready for it, so they let him go. Later on, when under the influence of their fanaticism, they said, 'The Pakehas
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bullets would not kill them but would glance off without hurting them.' They fought and soon realized the fallacy of their belief, as their dead lay strewn around them; the rest made their escape to the hills, but were captured and made prisoners and sent to an island, from which, after a short time, they made good their escape. This happened more than once during the war!
L
One evening the house was full of refugees, chiefly the relatives of our kind hostess; we had assembled together for evening prayers, and were all feeling anxious on account of some reports about the war, when there was a knock at the door; all sat quite still, no one liking to answer it. Then it was so strange to realize that as the worst had happened to me, I alone of all in that room had no more to fear; so they instinctively turned to me. I understood the mute appeal, and with a sigh I rose and opened the door. Our clergyman had brought sad news, not of the war, but of the death of a sweet girl we all knew; she had been ill, and her death hastened by the horror of my poor husband's death.
M
There was one young lady present (Miss Gilfillan) whose eyes were overflowing with tears of sympathy, for she herself had lost her mother and brothers and sisters during the first Maori war. During the attack by the Maoris she and her small brother, both of them almost babies, escaped by running into the bush and hiding in the high fern, where the poor little things stayed all night until found the next day by a rescue party of settlers. Miss Gilfillan still lives in Wanganui, and is a highy respected lady.
N
While staying in Judge Ward's beautiful home in Wellington, they gave a notable dinner party, using his magnificent heirloom, a large dinner service of pure silver with gold ornaments, a large epergne with bowl
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for fruit, candelabras, and so on. As I was in my widow's deep mourning, I of course did not intend to appear, but a violent thunderstorm came on, preventing some of the guests who lived at a distance from arriving. The party being thus reduced, Mrs. Ward persuaded me to occupy one of the vacant chairs at the table; and I was glad I did, as I never again saw such grandeur, not even in the homes of some of the nobility, relatives of my husband's people. I was very shy, but they all looked kindly at me, and as I was sitting next to an officer my husband had known, General Chute, he soon made me feel at home. Opposite to me was Colonel Russell, who told me he knew my father-in-law, Colonel Hewett. Colonel Russell was the father of our Captain Sir William Russell, a well-known leader in politics. Sir Edward and Lady Stafford and Miss Barclay were there, and a Mr. and Mrs. Levin, very handsome people; there were other guests but I do not remember their names. The dinner table, with its flower decorations and masses of gold and silver, was very beautiful. 'Willie Levin,' son of the couple just mentioned, became a wealthy man, and was greatly beloved for his generous deeds of kindness and sympathy for all who were in need. Many were the tears shed by the poor at his funeral, one of the largest ever seen in Wellington, at which representatives from every church and sect were present. May those left of his family follow his example of goodness and generosity!
It was about this time that Mr. McNeill arrived in New Zealand; he had been through the Indian Mutiny in the Royal Engineers, and was the brother of General Sir John McNeill, V.C., equerry to our beloved Queen Victoria. Mrs. McNeill was a niece of General Sir Archdale Wilson, Commander-in-Chief at Delhi. The McNeills, who are a very large family, are settled in New Zealand, all married and with families. The eldest daughter, Mrs. Izett, is one of the--if not the--most popular women in Wanganui, not only on account of her wit and talents, but more especially because of her large-heartedness and wide sympathies.
